ColdbloƆ
I had been driving for 12 hours when I stopped to sleep. An empty road stretches for hundreds of miles in each direction. This was the Yukon Territory, a stretch of the Alaska highway existing as nothing more than an empty void. A northern reach of the world in which civilization does not, and has never existed. In the dead of winter this route serves only long-haul truckers and the occasional lonely traveler, foolish or desperate enough to make the trip in such conditions. I happened to be both. I left Alaska with little more than a suitcase full of clothes. No personal effects. The books, the art, the records, the old photos, I left it all with her. The events that had transpired in the last week had left such a dark imprint on my mind that I felt as if I needed to run, to erase it all from my memory. So here I was, driving 2000 miles south to start over. As I felt myself dozing, I pulled onto a shoulder that looked wide enough to park the car for the night. Normally I would sleep in a campground, or at a rest stop, but I knew that those options would require hours of driving. And I just wanted to sleep. I sat there in the driver’s seat for a while, thinking about what had brought me here to this moment. Flashes of that night burst into my head and I shook them off like a tic. I knew where my mind would go if I allowed myself to ruminate. That’s what my therapist called it, “rumination”. It was something I’d become all too familiar with, and my coping mechanism of choice was now cigarettes and alcohol. I lit an American spirit and took a few big gulps from my flask. Ten minutes later the cigarette was burnt to the filter, the flask was empty, and I felt drunk enough to sleep. I turned off the engine, slipped off my shoes and left them on the floor. I crawled into the bed I had made in the back seat, and zipped myself into my sleeping bag. Sleep was fitful, plagued by dreams of her. And him. I had no coping mechanism for the ruminating of my unconscious mind. I woke to the sound of a car door shutting. My barely conscious, half-drunk brain took a few moments to register, but then I remembered where I was. I was not at a rest stop, or a campground. I was parked on the shoulder of an empty highway, in the middle of nowhere. A hundred miles from anyone or anything. I unzipped my sleeping bag and lifted my head to see who was outside my car. I hadn’t realized how cold it was tonight, and all my windows were covered in a thick layer of ice, making it impossible to see out. I waited. I felt safe, my doors were locked, and it was most likely just an RCMP checking to see why there was a car parked here in the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter. I actually felt comforted by the fact that even in this vast desolation someone was looking out for me. The crunch of footsteps started and slowly made their way to my driver’s side. I was sure that I’d soon see the shine of a flashlight and the friendly greeting of a Mountie. They stopped next to my driver’s door. Through the frost I could see the faint silhouette of a person backlit by the full moon. The silhouette stood there for what seemed like minutes. For some reason, I felt myself slipping into a state of anxiety, almost panic. My instincts told me not to move or make a sound. It stood there, and my mind raced with questions and theories of their intentions. I’m not sure how long they stood there, but it was long enough to tell me something wasn’t right. No knock on the window, no lights, nothing indicating they were there to offer help, to make sure I was OK, to gather information. It was coming to this conclusion that sent me into a panic. I felt helpless, vulnerable, no way to defend myself. I thought of jumping into the driver’s seat, starting the car and driving away. That thick layer of ice would make it impossible for me to see. I could roll down my window and stick my head out. I could do it, but would this person even let me? Would they hear me moving and attack before I could even start the car? My frozen indecision was interrupted by movement outside. The figure shuffled, and seemed to do an about-face. It looked like they were now facing away from me. They did not walk back to their vehicle, instead they crossed the road. I was confused, but also felt a sense of relief, and I laid there listening. The crunch of feet on snow continued across the highway and slowly faded into the distance. They walked for a long time, and as far as I could tell they did not stop. The situation had taken on a surreal tone. I could not see who this person was, what they were driving, or where they had gone. There was nothing here. No destination for these footsteps, no reason for them to cross the road and fade into the distance. This thought made me shiver. I laid there like a coward for far too long, at least 30 minutes had passed. I began thinking about what I needed to do. Whoever this was, was far away and right now may be my only chance to make a move. I scrambled out of my bag and jumped into the driver’s seat, slipping on my shoes. I could just leave. I could start the car, roll down the window and drive. A flash of memory flooded into my mind like a dam bursting. Something I hadn’t thought of in a long, long time. A mountaintop. A cool wind blowing through our hair, two naked bodies alone in the wilderness, in love. Our dog by our side and a feeling of pure bliss. The deepest and truest happiness I’ve ever felt. I don’t know why, but in that moment, I got out of the car. It was almost involuntary, as if my mind was no longer in control of my body. I stepped out into the moonlight and was met with perfect, complete silence. Every sound I made seemed to cut into the air like a blade, and the crunch of my shoes on snow might as well have been explosions. The air bit my skin in a way that instantly told me how cold it was. This wasn’t normal cold, it had to be at least -20. At this temperature nothing can, or should exist out in the open. When it gets like this, life folds into itself. Any non-hibernating animals go into survival mode, holding on for dear life waiting out the cold. There is nothing here. Nothing to make sound. I looked to my right and what I saw sent a spike of anxiety into my stomach. This had to be a coincidence. Logic wouldn’t allow me to believe that the woman who had broken me, shattered my psyche into a thousand pieces, had followed me over 1000 miles and found me on the side of the road. In disbelief, I took a closer look at the car. My mind felt strange and light, like I stood up too fast. I wondered if I was dreaming. I felt another jolt of heat in my chest and stomach when I saw the license plate. It was her. I stood there for a long moment, struggling to rationalize what I was seeing. This person who had found me in the middle of the night, hundreds of miles from civilization, was her. What had just taken place occurred to me. She left. I spun around fast and strained my eyes to see if she was there. The moonlight filtered through icy clouds, illuminating the landscape in dull grey. What I saw made my stomach hot again. In the featureless grey was one set of lonely footprints, crossing the snowy road, descending down an embankment, across an empty field, and entering a stand of trees on the other side. “What the fuck was she doing?”, I thought. Without hesitation, I sprinted toward the forest. My shoes filled with snow as I lumbered down the hill and into the field. The snow was deep, and I quickly felt moisture on my feet as it melted against my skin. I was cold, but I didn’t realize it. My mind was completely focused and determined to get to her. I made it across the field in a few minutes, and came to a stop at the edge of the trees. These trees have always given me a strange feeling of melancholy. They were black spruce, the type that you only find at higher latitudes. They are small, usually only growing to 8 or 9 feet, and skinny. The colder temperatures and lack of sunlight stunt their growth, and what results are forests of these sad looking things. They make me think of death. Or the ends of the earth. The northern parts of our planet that most people stay far away from. Places where life can barely exist. I stood there looking into the forest. The moonlight casting pitch-black shadows in gnarled and twisted shapes of the trees they belonged to. In that moment, the silence was tangible. It was a force upon my ears, broken only by the sound of blood rushing through my veins and my heart beating quickly. My heartrate slowed after a few moments and I just listened, and watched. I couldn’t see movement, but then I heard the crunch of a footstep. I called out. “WINTER”? The sound of my own voice was almost deafening. It crashed through the silence and faded into the trees. No response. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? IS THIS A JOKE?” Nothing. I waited. Some primal instinct was telling me not to enter the forest. My adrenaline was waning and I began to feel the cold. I stood there for another moment until I heard the crashing of footsteps approaching from the darkness, fast. The footsteps started from a distance, and I could hear them getting closer. As they advanced I began to see something moving in and out of the moonlight between the shadows of the trees. Within moments it was there. A fox. It ran straight toward me, and darted around me at the last second. It continued running across the field, ignoring me completely. I was stunned, and then the thought occurred to me. What if she was attacked? She could have been charged by a moose, attacked by wolves, even the fox could have hurt her. I sprinted into the trees without another thought, yelling her name as I went. I followed her footprints for a long time. I must have traveled at least a mile into the woods. Eventually I lost her trail to the darkness. I stood surrounded by the silence again. I pulled out my phone to use as a flashlight, waving it around looking for any signs of her. There was nothing. Just trees and shadows and snow. I dropped to my knees, the cold ground biting through the thin layer of denim protecting my skin. “WHERE ARE YOU???” I screamed into the void. Then, I heard it. From only a few feet behind me in the darkness, a sound. Clicking, somehow both guttural and mechanical. Changing in pitch and frequency faster than I could comprehend, from low to high, fast to slow, somehow all at once. A sound not made by anything of this earth. A sound not meant to be heard by human ears. I was frozen in fear. In that moment, I knew what I was hearing was no animal, and certainly not her. It continued until the pitch lowered to a point that turned from clicking into something that resembled the beating of a drum. I could feel it coursing through my body, steady rhythmic thumps pounding in my head and chest and stomach. And then it stopped. The silence was absolute. I stayed there on my knees for so long that my entire body went numb. I was cold to the point of frostbite on my fingers and toes, and I knew I had to do something or I would die here. I thought to myself, that whatever is here with me cannot be worse than dying of exposure. I rose to my feet, and slowly turned. What I saw will be imprinted on my consciousness for the rest of my life. It stood completely motionless, it’s slender white frame towering over me. Its body was featureless white, no toes or fingers on its hands and feet. Its head was massive, in the shape of a diamond framing 4 large black eyes, 1 at each corner. In the center of its head sat a black hole. I staggered backward, falling to the ground. The thing stared at me, slightly hunched with its head turned downward. I met its gaze and it made a movement toward me, placing its hands on either side of my body and leaning in so its head was inches from mine. It’s four eyes widened, and clicking began emanating from its dark void of a mouth. The mouth opened, so large that its blackness is all I could see. The clicking intensified, and again I could feel it deep within myself, vibrating me apart from the inside. I screamed, but the clicking was so loud it overpowered my cries. The mouth opened wider, so loud that my ears began to ring, and then, darkness. I woke up to sunlight and the sound of knocking on my window. A Mountie. “Hey bud, you havin’ some car trouble?” I was in shock. Only seconds ago, I was in the forest. “What? No. I-I’m fine. Just pulled over to sleep.” I stammered, barely able to speak. “Huh? You sure about that? This vehicle’s been here a while.” The Mountie said. “What do you mean, what time is it?” I may have overslept?” I said, confused. “I don’t think you understand, I got a call saying this car’s been here three days. You sure you’re alright?” The Mountie said, starting to sound suspicious. I was at a loss for words. “Sir, why don’t you get out of there and come warm up in my truck. We’ll get you a tow and get you someplace safe. Is there anyone I can call? Family, girlfriend?” I jumped out of the car, clearly scaring the hell out of the Mountie who now had his hand on his gun. “WHERE IS SHE? WHERE’S HER CAR??” I yelled desperately. “Who? Were you traveling with someone else?” He said, confused. “No, I-… My ex, h-her car was here. I don’t know why.” I said, sadness echoing from these words as I began to question my own sanity. “I think we need to get you some medical attention, you shouldn’t be out here alone if you—“ “No, I’m fine.” I interrupted him before he could accuse me of being crazy, trying to calm myself down. “I’m sorry, I had a little too much to drink last night before bed. I think my battery died, I just need a jump.” The Mountie stood there, examining me for a long moment. “Well, alright. I’ve got some jumper cables in the truck” We jumpstarted my car and sat in his truck while the engine warmed up. “You know, you’re not the first person to be in this situation.” He said, concerned. “W-…what do you mean?” I said, hesitation in my voice. “Here on this highway, parked on the side of the road for days, acting strange and confused. I’ve seen this a few times before, it’s the weirdest thing.” He said, contemplative. I looked at him, unable to speak. We shared a long moment of eye contact before I decided against telling him what I had seen. I did not get the impression that he would believe me, and I almost didn’t believe myself. “Yeah. Weird.” Is all I could say. I thanked him, and got out of the truck. I got into my car and pulled off the shoulder and onto the highway. I only made it a few miles before it all came pouring out of me. I stopped in the middle of the road and just cried. I cried harder than I ever have, unable to comprehend what had happened. It was not a dream, but I knew I could never tell anyone. After a while I looked up, and sitting in front of my car was a fox. We stared at each other, and after a moment it slowly stood and darted off the road toward the forest. It’s been 5 years, and this journal entry is my first time talking about what happened. I guess now it feels far enough away to exist as a distant memory. I’m doing okay now. I have good life here in Washington with a decent job and a girlfriend who I love. I feel happy. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly get over what happened to me all those years ago, but I know one thing. I will never drive north again. Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta